Page 118 of By A Thread

From a detached, purely scientific distance, I weighed my reaction to the man. Charming. Funny. A damn genius with a needle and thread. He was flirting with me, and I was enjoying it.

And then there was a lightning strike of awareness a second later when I caught a glimpse of Dominic across the room. He was in conversation with a mix of beautiful people, but he was looking at me.

One look at the man in his jeans and boots and that fucking vest that I knew he was wearing just to piss me off and my heart rate accelerated into cycling class territory.

Did I somehow get off on the rejection?I took a hasty gulp of champagne.

Well, there would be no more rejections because I was done where Dominic was concerned. He couldn’t have been clearer. And neither could I. Plus, if I were stupid enough to offer myself up to him one more time, I’d lose the last piece of my self-respect.

If only I could just erase him from my brain. Even now, I could feel him glowering at me. A tickle of discomfort between my shoulder blades, a shiver of awareness up my spine. It almost felt… exciting. And that made me want to barf.

Maybe it wasn’t the cheese hormones. Maybe it was something much, much worse.

“Do you mind?” Christian asked, offering me his hand. “So I can see how the fabric moves? Also, I just really like looking at you.”

“It’s your party,” I said, putting a little more effort into the flirtation.

He put my drink on the bar and took my hand.

“Beautiful. I could see you in this in white. A beach wedding. Flowers in your hair. Very bohemian. After the ceremony, you’d jump into the ocean with your very lucky groom.”

I was blushing.

“The beautiful, blushing bride,” he mused. “What are your thoughts?”

“I don’t have the time or prospects for marriage.”

He grinned again. “I meant the dress. If this were your wedding gown, what would you add? Take away?”

“Shimmer.”

“Ah, yes,” he said approvingly. “Something subtle that would catch the sunlight and make you look—”

“Magic.”

“Exactly.” The eyebrow he arched was elegant. “Turn for me?”

I shrugged. He pulled me in like we were on the dance floor and then gently pushed me away. I twirled like that faceless ballerina in the jewelry box my dad got me for my fifth birthday to store all my plastic rings and bracelets.

Then he was playfully pulling me back in. On a devilish grin, he used my momentum and leaned me back over his leg in an extravagant dip.

The guests around us broke into spontaneous applause, and I came up laughing. God, it felt good to laugh.

Someone at the bar behind us slammed a crystal glass down hard enough to crack it.

“Let me help you with that, sir,” the bartender said, taking the broken glass from Dominic. That glower was a whole lot warmer up close. I felt like my dress was going to catch fire, burn off my body, and leave me standing here naked. Maybe I should have worn pasties again.

“Dominic.” Christian turned his wattage on my boss and offered him that friendly manshake with the shoulder slap. “Good to see you. I’m hearing a lot of good things about you atLabel.”

Dom’s eyes blazed with something unrecognizable. He was looking at me.

“Do you have a minute? I’d like to discuss some logistics.” The question was for Christian, but Dom’s eyes burned into my flesh like a brand. The hand he clamped on Christian’s shoulder didn’t look friendly as he steered my dance partner away from me.

“Honey, I don’t know what that was about,” the bartender said, staring after the men. “But Vest Guy looks like he can’t decide if he wants to spank you or devour you.”

I blinked. “So I’m not imagining it?”

“That was a code nuclear. If I had lady parts and took him to bed, I’d be concerned about my vagina spontaneously exploding.”